Profiles in Wisdom

Note:
This article was published in the September, 2005 volume of “Plain
Views: The Publication of HealthCare Chaplaincy.” A
recent graduate of The HealthCare Chaplaincy’s Pastoral Residency
program in New York City, Chaplain Judith Seicho Fleischman is
co-coordinator of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, New York Chapter and
Social Action Chair of the Village Zendo in New York City. Chaplain
Fleischman is also an active member at Congregation Rodeph Sholom.

Earlier
this summer, I was privileged to offer pastoral care at a long-term
healthcare facility on the verge of closing its doors permanently. I
had trained there for eight months but left the facility in the spring
when the Pastoral Care Department was closed. I was invited to return
three days prior to the closing date to help the staff and a handful
of remaining residents cope.

The
situation was riddled with conflict energy, and strong emotion. The
staffs of the various departments were paralyzed by their impending
loss with no effective ways to engage feelings and meaning. The
community appeared fractured to me. People who had worked side by side
for over thirty years now faced feelings of rage and disappointment,
which led to a great sense of isolation, distrust, and marginalization.
I wanted to offer a service that was inclusive and co-creative.

We
began by singing, “Kumbaya,” which means “Come by here.”
Everyone joined in. I then offered a spontaneous prayer, which set the
theme of “Going Forth.”

Next,
I invited people to share stories that connected to the meaning of
having served in this facility. This was met largely with silence. The
process of “naming and claiming” the grief was stalled somehow. I
realized that people did not feel safe and perhaps their pain was too
great to be engaged directly.

I
turned again to music, lifting up a tambourine, whose surface was
decorated with a healing prayer and a painting of many hands
encircling a rose blossom. I said, “Sometimes, words are
insufficient. Sometimes, the pain is so great that it needs to be
expressed in another way. Sometimes, all we can do is play what is in
our hearts.” I then let my hand fall forcefully on the tambourine. A
loud and sharp sound reverberated throughout the room. People jolted
in their seats. I called attention to the hands painted on the
instrument.

I
invited each person to play the tambourine and then pass it on. With
tears in her eyes, a senior administrator shook the tambourine. She
then smiled gently towards the director of nursing and handed her the
tambourine. The director shook it as well in her own unique way.

Their
leadership served its purpose. Soon, that tambourine was passed
throughout the group and played by everyone. We began to sing. For me,
this became a transformative form of prayer. As each prayer was
expressed and witnessed by the assembled community, healing occurred
throughout the room.

The
CPE training I received was essential for understanding and skillfully
responding to all that was happening that day. My pastoral formation
offered me both the structure and the flexibility I needed to
continually assess and refine my approach. In particular, I was able
to utilize spontaneous prayer as a way to lift up the meaning of the
journey for those assembled.

As
a chaplain, I am keenly aware that this is what we offer. We open
doors. We invite those in need to walk through. Perhaps most
poignantly, we let go of any attachment to the outcome. In doing so
that day, I connected with the greatest meaning for me: to embody and
exchange kindness.